


Doctors orders

by SavannahWest



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26424199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavannahWest/pseuds/SavannahWest
Summary: Alfie follows the Doctors advice, much to Tommy’s Delight.A collection of Tommy/Alfie stories, at various time points in their relationship.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 34
Kudos: 225





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly the start of a collection of Tommy/Alfie one shots as and when inspiration strikes.

“Oh”, Tommy says, it’s the only coherent noise he’s able to sound out.

His hands are frozen, sharp knife still poised over the carrot he was determinedly, but haphazardly, slicing. His busy work stopping as soon as Alfie walked through the door.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”, Alfie asks, carelessly dropping a brown paper package on the old wooden table that separates them in Alfie’s kitchen. It clinks loudly, the glass contents protesting at the impact.

Tommy glances from the package back to Alfie’s face but remains silent, mouth slightly parted in shock, a hint of awe.

Alfie crosses his arms, his chest puffing out, posturing as he does when he’s angry or trying to conceal emotion.

“I’m standing here, having undergone basically the biggest fucking change of my adult life right, and all you can eloquently muster, is oh?”, Alfie asks, his tone is demanding but despite his posturing there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. His beautiful, full pink lips that are no longer hidden. Lips surrounded by a perfect , if a little ruddy, expanse of pink skin that’s recently, very recently, seen the sharp edge of a razor blade.

Dangerously close to swooning Tommy gets himself together. He coughs a little, using his free hand to cover what he’s sure is a flushed red face. He drops the knife, vegetables long forgotten.

“You look... different”, Tommy offers, suppressing a smile. His bright blue eyes meeting Alfie’s swirling grey with a hint of mirth threatening to spill out.

“I look fucking different? I should fucking hope so since I’ve just paid a fucking Goy to carve half my fucking face off”, Alfie says, an eyebrow lifting. His gaze is incredulous but there’s humour in his tone, he knows he’s being teased.

“You've had a shave Alfie”, Tommy states, matter of fact, eyes rolling at his lovers penchant for absolute drama.

“I have indeed, had a fucking shave, yes”, Alfie agrees, his tone just as sober as Tommy’s as he gestures to his now bare face. “And may I trouble you for a comment considering this is the first time the flesh has seen light since it was blowing up the Boche at The fucking Somme?” Alfie asks, his voice rising, betraying a nervousness underneath the bravado.

Tommys face softens at his lovers obvious unease. Alfie’s beard, in addition to being a symbol of his faith has also been his shield.

Tommy moves himself around the table, taking slow step towards him before bringing his hand up to gently stroke Alfie’s cheek once he’s close enough to touch. The face that he’s always longed to see uncovered, is surprisingly soft and smooth under his fingertips.

He’s loved and lusted for Alfie like he has for no other, burly stature and imposing facial hair and all, and to see the man beneath the armour was a true sight to behold. He was absolutely beautiful, just as Tommy always knew he was, but what was perhaps more satisfying, was the hidden boyishness that it also revealed. Oh Tommy would relish that new found revelation.

“Alfie, you are beautiful”, Tommy states sincerely, enjoying the light blush that graces his loves cheeks at his words, something he could no longer hope to conceal.

“And also”, Tommy pauses, his eyes continuing to examine every inch of his lovers newly revealed face intently, “You look about 12 years old”, Tommy says and he laughs, an unexpected and jubilant sound that despite the context makes Alfie’s face light up. Such a rarity as it was to witness.

“Well you can just fuck off can’t you?”, Alfie replies but without malice, not quite able to keep the joyful twitch off his lips. Oh he was going to have to work on his poker face now.

“You can just fuck off right to hell and once this beard grows back, and it will, very soon, because some of us don’t have the genetic make up of a prepubescent boy”, Alfie quips teasingly. “Well you can just remember this moment fondly can’t you, as the first and last time you mocked Alfie Solomons”.

Despite Alfie’s best efforts to appear affronted he can’t bring himself to move away from Tommy’s strong but delicate hands as they explore his newly revealed face gently. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anyone touch his face like this. A long time since he’s bared his face at all. So he lets Tommy continue his exploration, busies himself with removing a glass jar from the brown paper bag he’d placed on the table.

Tommy who paid no mind to Alfie’s little outburst of self consciousness continues to pet him gently like a scared stray.

“Hmmm I think, no, I know”, Tommy qualifies, “that I love it. But what made you do it? I thought it was you know, forbidden?” Tommy asks softly, curious.

“Yes well, Doctors orders wasn’t it, apparently this fucking rash that plagues me is just that, a bloody rash”, Alfie tells him, referring to the unsightly patches of angry red skin that marred his otherwise handsome face. A source of conflict between the two, as Alfie until recently had refused to have it looked at, fearing the worst.

The relief in the air is palpable as Tommy absorbs the news. Not cancer, not some awful side effect of the chemicals and pollutants of years in the war. Just a fucking rash.

“So the beard had to go to make way for this viscous concoction“, Alfie says, gesturing to the jar of cream he’d just removed from the paper bag. “On the bright side I am not, as previously feared, slowly perishing, so all in all...” He trails off, wiping away the newly presented wetness in Tommy’s eyes with his thumbs.

Tommy envelopes Alfie in to a strong desperate hug which Alfie returns happily. Stroking the back of Tommy’s hair, a gentle shush on his lips to soothe him.

“Well that, is a relief“ Tommy says slowly, his voice steady but muffled against Alfie’s broad shoulder.

Alfie just hums in answer, happy to hold on to Tommy during this relatively rare show of affection outside of their bedroom.

They hold each other for a few long minutes in the peace of the kitchen.

“Now then”, Alfie says, finally pulling back. “Please don’t let me distract Mr Shelby from his domestic endeavours“.

Tommy scoffs glancing at the hash of chopped vegetables and raw chicken that sat out on the side board waiting to be combined in to a dish for the oven. Tommy’s forays in to cooking were sporadic at best but he found he needed the distraction today waiting for Alfie to return from his doctors appointment.

“It’ll be ready in an hour. Maybe“, Tommy says doubtfully. Honestly he’d hoped Alfie would just take over like he usually did.

“Good, now let me go and deal with whatever the fuck this is and I’ll be back“, Alfie says picking up the jar of cream and giving it a skeptical once over.

Tommy leans in, unable to resist placing a gentle peck against his lovers lush lips, enjoying the absence of the usual prickle of hair against his skin.

“If you smell burning come back sooner”, Tommy adds, making his way hesitantly back towards the oven.

****

“Tommy, love, I am trying to sleep”. Alfie grumbles several hours later. His eyes remain closed as he speaks but he uses his right hand which was resting on his chest to bat the intruder away.

Tommy couldn’t help himself, his hands unable to stop themselves from admiring and stroking the newly revealed face that Alfie presented. His fingertips tracing gentle trails across his upper lip and down his surprisingly sharp jawline. Alfie has always teased Tommy about his erethreal bone structure but Alfie himself, frankly, could give him a run for his money. While Alfie‘s was certainly less pronounced than Tommy’s due to the extra pounds he carried; his face, with its strong nose and perfectly angular jaw, in Tommy’s opinion, rivalled that of any revered Greek statue.

“Sorry” Tommy says, not at all sorry.

“No you ain’t“ Alfie says, a smirk on his lips. Eyes still closed.

“No” Tommy agrees, letting out a quiet laugh.

Alfie lets him continue his trail of exploration. Eventually falling back to sleep.

***

The next time Alfie wakes daylight is streaming through the gap in the curtains and he can hear the whispered curses of his beloved.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me”, Tommy says quietly and to no one in particular.

Alfie could feel Tommy’s fingers once again tracing the line of his jaw but this time they were met with a light dusting of stubble. Something Tommy himself took days if not a whole week to grow,yet on Alfie it had appeared overnight.

Alfie just laughs. “I fucking told you didn’t I”.


	2. Margate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Alfie in Margate

“You alright there treacle?”, Alfie asks, casting a squinted glance over at Tommy. The sun blazes down from the clear blue sky, and Alfie has to raise a hand over his brow for shade in order to see his lover clearly, despite only being a few feet away. 

“Fine, thank you Alfie”, Tommy replies curtly, not looking up from his newspaper. The image he presents sat as he is in one of Alfie’s red and white striped deck chairs is attracting glances from the few passers by; those who have wandered too far down the beach from the centre of town. 

Alfie nods, running his bare toes through the sand at his feet, it’s warm from the midday sun, a cool breeze from the sea offsetting the strength of the sun that pulses down on them. 

They’re sat on the beach directly outside Alfie’s house, their house, in Margate. The few steps down off the wooden deck on to sand is one of the main reasons Alfie made the purchase years ago when he was looking for a retreat from the dust and grime and death of London. It’s usually quiet this far down, and those who do find themselves at this end of the shore usually don’t stay too long after meeting one of Alfie’s glares. 

They were enjoying the fresh sea air at Alfie’s insistence. “Get some vitamin D and some sea air, good for the soul innit”, Alfie had said after breakfast, all but dragging Tommy up from his seat at the kitchen table. Tommy had managed to grab his paper and his cigarettes with his left hand as Alfie tugged at his right. 

“Not feeling a bit warm mate?”, Alfie asks, watching Tommy who is sat rigidly in the fabric chair trying his best to look at ease, in his full three piece suit.

“I’m fine, thank you”, Tommy says again, his jaw clenched, betraying his underlying annoyance.

They’d been locked in a battle of wills since shortly after they had arrived at their seaside retreat; when Alfie had casually suggested that maybe they consider making a more permanent move to Margate. Something Tommy found himself unable to even fathom, resulting in an ongoing stalemate from which neither would backdown. 

A notorious Shelby sulk complete with succinct vocabulary had ensued. 

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist”, Alfie replies under his breath, his gaze turning out towards the sea and the boats visible in the distance. He lifts his binoculars to his eyes to get a better look. Takes in the detail on the flags, can see the fishermen moving around on the deck. 

“It’s just, one could be forgiven for thinking, considering you’re sat on the beach, in the glorious fucking sunshine, in a fucking woollen fucking three piece suit, that you might, be feeling a tad bit warm?”, Alfie says again turning back to Tommy unable to let it go. 

Alfie himself is in his usual Margate uniform. His dark trousers rolled up to his knees, not quite able to bring himself to wear actual short trousers. On top he wore just his sleeveless undershirt, the stark white cotton contrasted beautifully with his olive complexion and dark hair. Showing off his muscular arms and solid torso to those that dared look long enough. 

In Tommy’s opinion he was only missing a handkerchief tied on his head and he would fit in quite well on one of the cheap post cards that littered the souvenir shops in town. 

Tommy’s face remains impassive, refusing to rise to the bait. Instead he places his newspaper in the sand and gets up out of the deck chair as gracefully as possible, which turns out to not be very gracefully at all, before stalking up the steps on to the deck and disappearing through the open doors and in to the house. 

Alfie watches him go before picking up his binoculars again and focusing his attention back on the ships. 

It’s less than 10 minutes before Tommy reappears on the deck, slowly making his way down the wooden steps like a man walking to the gallows. 

Alfie markedly ignores his return but can’t quite keep the hint of a smile off his lips. 

Tommy has removed his jacket and his waistcoat, the sleeves of his white dress shirt are now rolled up to the elbows and first few buttons are undone revealing a tantalising glimpse of his toned chest and dusting of chest hair. The very top of his tattoo visible to eyes that know it is there. His trousers remain full length but his feet are bare. 

“Satisfied?”, Tommy says gesturing to his newly modified outfit.

Alfie gives him the full once over he deserves “Mmm, I will be later don’t you worry about that” He says suggestively, looking Tommy up and down, not trying to hide the appreciation in his eyes.  


Tommy blushes slightly at the insinuation before easing himself back in to his chair and picking up his newspaper, using it to hide his smile.

***

“Those girls right”, Alfie says, “those girls have been looking at you all morning love”, 

Tommy lifts his head up from where it rests against the back of the deck chair and opens his eyes, his newspaper long forgotten as he gave in to the pleasant feeling of the sun warming his face. 

Alfie gestures subtly to two young women laying on long towels, sunning themselves, a bit further down the beach. They look barely older than teenagers, dressed in the modern swimwear that became fashionable after the war. Sunglasses graced their faces betraying an underlying wealth. They themselves were being less subtle with their appraisal of the two men, men probably old enough to be their fathers Tommy thinks. 

Tommy scoffs at Alfie’s implication that he is the sole subject of the women’s interest. With his newly cleared skin lightly bronzed by the sun giving him a healthy glow, his seaside induced open relaxed posture, and stripped back of his heavy clothes and intimidating cane, Alfie drew just as much attention as Tommy. 

“It’s not just me they’re looking at, love”. Tommy says lightly, closing his eyes again, having no interest in what the girls may have to offer. 

“Hmmm well, they should be careful shouldn’t they, sitting awfully close to a highly irritating flock of seagulls they are, wouldn’t like them to get caught in the cross fire”Alfie says with an air of menace, his gaze subconsciously dropping to the pistol that he insists on bringing everywhere, even down on to the beach 

“Alfie”, Tommy says, a warning. 

“Just saying mate, I fucking hate seagulls” Alfie replies, his face the picture of innocence as he returns the gun to his own folded up newspaper by his feet.

“Says the man who wants to live by the sea”, Tommy says, amused.

“Yes well, that’s yet to be determined isn’t it?” Alfie responds softly before heaving himself up out of his chair “Now, how about an afternoon nap eh? All this relaxin’ is bloody exhausting’ innit?”. He casts a last withering glance at the two women before turning his attention back to Tommy and holding out his hand. 

***

Later they lie sated and docile, but not remotely rested, entwined in the light cotton sheets of their bed. The large sash windows are open allowing the sea breeze to blow through, causing the lace curtains to billow gently. 

“You taste like salt”, Tommy remarks, bemused. His lips linger against Alfie’s lightly stubbled jaw after having just licked a stripe up his neck. 

“Yeah well it’s in the air innit” Alfie responds, a light shudder passes through him that he's not sure whether to attribute to the cool breeze from the windows or the soft lips and inquisitive tongue of his lover. Never the less, he pulls Tommy more firmly in to his side, as much of a cuddle as either will allow today, still vaguely at odds over their recent disagreement. 

Tommy hums in response, then“Maybe I could get used to it”, He says, as much of an acquiesce as he capable of at present. 

His reservations against spending more time in Margate have only ever really been of a practical nature, nothing against the town or house itself. However, their mutual strive towards modernisation meant Business can be taken care of more and more by phone and with the right, and trusted, people in place overseeing things more closely. 

More importantly he loves the version of Alfie that Margate evokes. Occasional bursts of irrational jealously aside, he’s a lighter more relaxed man here, less quick to anger or smite. His grumbling only ever the good natured ramblings of a man who’s seen too much. 

“We’re too young to retire Alfie”, Tommy says, finally voicing his concerns, the sound cutting though the peace of the room.

“No one said anything about retiring mate. But there are perks to having good procedures, good people, in place. To lighten the load so to speak”, Alfie says softly. 

“It’s not a yes”, Tommy states firmly.

“Hmmm but it’s not a no”, Alfie replies smiling. He’s looking forward to many more afternoons in Margate, just like this. 


	3. To the dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in which Alfie cannot stop acquiring dogs.

To the Dogs

Tommy was sitting at the kitchen table in their town house in Camden when Alfie got home. He had left early for a meeting at one of their warehouses by the docks; leaving Tommy to rise to a cold side of the bed and start the day alone.

Blustering in through the kitchen door while chatting away to an unexpected guest at his feet Alfie didn’t notice Tommy who sat reading the morning paper over a half eaten attempt at breakfast and a cooling cup of coffee. 

“Who’s this Alfie?” Tommy asks patiently, his voice still slightly rough with sleep brings Alfie’s focus up from the floor where he meets Tommy’s cool gaze with just a hint of trepidation. 

“Oh well this is, well, well she don’t have a name yet”, Alfie replies casually,gesturing to his new friend. 

“And what is she doing here?” Tommy asks again. He folds his paper and places it on the table, emphasising that Alfie and their guest had his full attention. 

“Well what happened was this right. I was down at the warehouse sorting out that business...” Alfie starts to explain. 

“Business sorted?” Tommy asks, interrupting what was sure to be a lengthy convoluted story from his partner.

“Business is sorted, yeah”. Alfie confirms nodding his head, before continuing. “So there I was right walking along the docks after sorting aforementioned business, when this young lady approaches me right. Asks me if I’d like some company. I mean, I thought it was a bit early to make such unsavoury offers but time was, if I’m honest, time was I might have taken her up on it but...”

“But that time has passed” Tommy says flatly and it’s a statement rather than a question. A flare of jealousy. 

“Right yeah, that time has indeed passed”, Alfie nods, he strokes his short beard thoughtfully, barely half an inch of growth on his face. A slow return to form. 

Tommy clears his throat. “And?” He asks impatiently. 

“And I politely decline the lady’s kind offer don’t I? Unsavoury as it was. But then I notice, right, that she has a dog with her”

“This dog?”, Tommy asks nodding towards the shivering whippet stood glued to Alfie’s legs.

“Yeah, yeah this dog mate this one. So I ask if the dog is hers and she says no, just a stray mutt that follows her around for scraps right and I say well that’s a shame because were it your dog I might be inclined to offer you some money for such a fine beast and then suddenly she agrees it is her dog after all and well” Alfie stops speaking as if their very presence now in the kitchen is explanation enough, which in fact it is. 

“You bought a stray dog off a prostitute”. Tommy says, again it’s a statement because of course he did. 

“Yeah, I did yeah”, Alfie nods again, “And she’s really hungry so... “ Alfie says gesturing towards the plate of half eaten toast in front of Tommy. 

Tommy sighs and slides the plate towards Alfie who picks up the crusts and begins feeding them to the dog. 

“Alfie, when we got the second dog...” Tommy starts.

“Barnaby” Alfie says firmly. 

“Barnaby” Tommy nods, “it was because you said Cyril would get lonely with us constantly moving between London and Birmingham - despite the fact that he’s never missed a trip” Tommy says.

He’d known full well Alfie was never going to leave Cyril behind when they went to Birmingham and naively he’d thought why not? Another dog wouldn’t be any more trouble and it’d be good for Cyril to have a friend to play with. Selfishly he’d also thought he might get the chance to sleep next to Alfie undisturbed without the giant bear of a dog jumping up and struggling to lie between them like he did most mornings. 

Without giving Alfie the time to reply he continues “and then we got the third one..” Tommy continues, before being interrupted again. 

“George” Alfie says, feeding the last piece of bread to the new dog who accepts it gratefully. 

“George” Tommy enunciated “because you said you’d found him on your walk and he looked sad..”

“He did though mate, he looked deeply sad right to be rooting through that rubbish like a fucking street rat. I said no mate, you’re not a street rat you’re a fucking king mate and he looked at me he did because he knew I was right and he followed me home”, Alfie shrugs like that was explanation enough for adding the third dog to their already busy household. 

“Then we got Daisy because you said we had too many male dogs and we..” 

“And we needed a bitch in the mix and it worked didn’t it? Calmed them all right down. She don’t take none of their nonsense” Alfie says, a fond look on his face as he thinks of their fourth dog.

“So please tell me, for what fucking reason we now have a fifth dog?” Tommy can’t help but sigh, he tries to suppress it but this is getting ridiculous. 

“Needed a home mate. And we got three of em’.” Alfie says matter of fact. He’s stroking the whippet affectionately and Tommy knows the battle is already lost. 

“Five fucking dogs” Tommy says quietly, his head tilted back as if he’s addressing the ceiling. Or God. 

There really was no hope. 

***

It’s when they’re next driving up to Birmingham that Tommy brings it up again. 

The four larger dogs are lying quietly in the back of the car with the newest, smallest, member of the family, who Alfie finally christened Gerty of all names “she reminds me of my Aunt Gertrude Tom, tiny woman, never stopped eating”, sandwiched between them in the front. She was mostly sat on Alfie, her long nosegrazing Tommy’s arm whenever he changed gear.

If Sabini or the Billy Boys could see them now they would not hesitate. 

“Alfie?” Tommy says and gets a grunt in reply. Alfie is always grumpy during long car journeys; unable to keep his leg straight enough to avoid aggravating his sciatica, he knows having an additional restriction can’t be helping.

“Alfie, this has to be it now. Five is enough eh?” Tommy says. “Look at us we barely fit as it is.” He gestures to the dog sandwiched between them and the four others in close quarters in the back to try and strengthen his point. 

“Mmm yeah course. Five is enough”. Alfie agrees absently, gaze focused on the passing countryside out of the window. 

“Right, good.” Tommy says, he’d been prepared for an argument, at the very least some terse words. He chooses not to be suspicious, chooses to believe Alfie is agreeing because he knows what he’s saying makes sense.

Tommy turns his attention back to the road. 

Alfie is still looking out of the window, Tommy doesn’t see the small smile on his face. 

“Of course” Alfie adds because of course he has to have the last word. “‘Course we could just get a bigger car”

Tommy sighs quietly. They were definitely going to need a bigger car. 


	4. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie and Tommy reflect on hosting their first Shelby Christmas

The moonlight coming in through the large windows cast a shimmer of white light over the wet black and white tiles that covered the floor of the bathroom. While the room wasn’t overly large, it adjoined the master bedroom; a luxury that Alfie felt was one too many in a mansion full of one too many’s. He considered his town house in Camden Town, with its indoor plumbing and cool box, as bordering on decadent, making Arrow house something else entirely. 

But his love seemed to like it, seemed to need it even. He supposed a childhood flitting between a canal boat and an overcrowded damp terraced house was enough of a hardship for anyone. Tommy deserved a little decadence, he gave himself a lot. 

Misgivings aside, he found it absurd to complain when it afforded them blissful moments like this, moments sat facing each other, only slightly cramped, in the deep roll top bathtub filled to the brim with floral scented steaming hot water, enjoying the absolute quiet and stillness of a, finally, empty house. 

The light of the candles that Alfie had placed on what seemed like every available surface around the room gave Tommy’s already ethereal features an other worldly glow. 

_ “ Trying to set us on fire Alfie?”, Tommy had asked teasingly, though smiling at the romantic gesture.  _

_ “Trying to save on your already astronomical electricity bills mate”, Alfie had replied, slipping off his ubiquitous uniform of black trousers and white shirt. He kicked them in to a corner of the bathroom free of fire hazards while Tommy undressed slowly and meticulously, folding up his own clothes and placing them a safe distance away from both the fire and the water.  _

“I have to say mate, candle light becomes you”, Alfie said, peering at Tommy through slitted eyes as he rested his head back against the tub, his hand caressing Tommy’s calf where it rested against his thigh under the water. 

Tommy smirked, his eyes still closed, his own head weighed back by the stresses of the day. He didn’t think anything short of a fire - which considering the amount of candles Alfie had lit was a possibility- could get him out of the absolute splendour of this tub. 

“You’re not too bad yourself” Tommy replied, finally opening his eyes just enough to admire the way Alfie’s thick, water darkened, hair was slicked back away from his face, before moving his gaze lower to appreciate the broad span of his shoulders and chest just visible above the water line. 

“Mmm,’ Alfie grunted, either too tired or too unwilling to take the compliment to reply. 

They both groaned as they sunk further in to the hot soapy water. It had been a very long day. Their first time hosting Christmas for all the Shelby clan and their assortment of extended kin. 

“How do you think it went then?” Alfie asked instead, water spilling over the side of the tub as he repositioned one leg slightly, stretching it out alongside Tommy’s hip. 

“Well Alfie, the only blood shed was that of the Goose that graced our plates, Arthur and John didn’t end the day with their usual customary brawl and the Lees and Golds didn’t steal any of the silverware, that I’m aware of, so all in all I’d say it was a success”, Tommy said, smiling to himself. He’d never let on but he was absolutely filled with pride that he and Alfie had hosted their first big family celebration and it had gone as smoothly as he could have hoped. 

And it was only a white lie about Arthur and John, they’d barely got through the front door before they’d started caterwauling about some brotherly injustice or other but Tommy had contained it before Alfie became any the wiser; so enthralled he was in the kitchen making surely every part of their Christmas meal was cooked to perfection. Despite his own misgivings about what was on offer.

_ “ So you just boil everything and then...cover it in this gravy?,” Alfie had asked, unable to avoid crinkling his nose in mild disgust.  _

_ “Effectively yes,” Tommy had agreed, “Don’t worry, it tastes better than it looks”.  _

_ “I fucking hope so mate” Alfie had replied wandering back over to the oven top to stir the brown liquid.  _

“My first Christian celebration, I have to say Tom, despite the bland mushy food, the likes of which i have not experienced since the trenches...” Alfie winced and paused his sentence in response to Tommys sharp kick to his weak left hip, “Which i suppose” Alfie conceded, “Didn’t actually taste that bad” It had, in actual fact, tasted delicious but Alfie liked to think that had more to do with his supervision of the cooking and intimidating Mary in to actually opening up the seasoning cupboard than anything else. 

“And despite of all the fucking Gypsy’s running about the place...” Alfie continued but Tommy just smirked at that, remembering fondly finding Alfie holding court in the den after dinner, regaling half of the Lee children, and Jonny Dogs, with Jewish folk tales. “Well it was quite a good day wasn’t it?” He finished and it was a statement rather than a question. He was as proud as Tommy that they’d pulled it off without any of the usual Shelby family drama, prouder still that this was their first time hosting an important event as a couple. 

Tommy hummed quietly in agreement and if it was possible, tried to sink even deeper in to the water that was finally starting to cool to a temperature less than scalding.  


“New Years here at Arrow House then?” Tommy asked teasingly.

“Fucking hell, not a chance” Alfie replied quickly. “There’s decent odds i’ll still be in this fucking tub a week from now and if I’m not then i’ll be in that big fucking bed of yours and only one member of the Shelby family is invited” Alfie opened one eye to stare at Tommy menacingly but only succeeded in looking slightly crazed and fully exhausted from the days excitement. One large family event was quite enough for a good long while. 

Tommy laughed lightly “That sounds good to me Alfie” He said softly. “Just one thing though, its our bed”. 


	5. Biblical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone threatens Tommy. Alfie doesn't appreciate it.

It didn’t happen often anymore, in fact, when he sat down and thought about it, he actually couldn’t clearly remember the last time it had. He thinks the last time he’d even had to open the first aid kit was when Alfie convinced himself it was a good idea to fight in a charity boxing match raising money for the children’s orphanage in Camden town.

_“It’s for the kids Tom, they’re all hopeless and wretched, poor little bastards” Alfie had said when Tommy had questioned his sanity “Right, and its nothing to do with your men accidentally burning down the orphans school house in that altercation with the Hill brothers last year?” Tommy had asked smirking, “Very unfortunate incident that was Tom, very unfortunate incident indeed”._

_Alfie’s foray in to philanthropy had cost him a few bruised ribs and a spit lip before he’d knocked his opponent clean out in the 4th round “I could’ve had him in the 2nd Tom but I had to give the punters what they’d paid for”. He’d winced as Tommy had cleaned a particularly nasty cut with an extra swab of ethanol._

This time Alfie stood before him with nothing more than bruised knuckles and a murderous expression that Tommy himself might have feared if he didn’t know the heart and soul of its wearer. The amount of blood on Alfie’s white undershirt did not equate to his meagre injuries and Tommy suspected whomever the blood belonged to was in a much worse condition. 

“Jesus Christ Alfie, we have men to do this for us remember? Much younger men, yeah? Men without chronic sciatica and a slipped disc” Tommy said angrily as he watched Alfie limp towards the arm chair next to the lit fire in the living room. 

“Do us a favour dearest and get me a fucking drink, if you’d be so kind?” Alfie asked his tone grumpy and one not willing to entertain further discussion on his recent endeavour, whatever it entailed.

Tommy sighed in frustration “Tea or hot lemon?” He asked listing Alfie’s usual preferred beverages. 

“Whisky,” Alfie answered gruffly, his gaze fixed firmly on the flames flickering in the fireplace.

That’s when Tommy knew it was serious. 

+++

“So any chance you’re going to tell me what happened?”, Tommy asked later as they sat across from each other in front of the now blazing fire, each still nursing a large whisky Tommy had poured over an hour ago. Alfie had downed the first once with a slight wince, Tommy could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Alfie have a proper drink, excluding tasting and spitting out his Rum at the Brewery for quality control.

Alfie just grunted, eyes focused on peeling off the dried blood around his knuckles. His own or someone else’s he wasn’t sure. He’d batted Tommy away when he’d approached him with the ethanol and white cloth. 

“Just some business, that’s all” Alfie replied noncommittally, refusing to meet Tommy’s eyes.

“Just business, eh? Business that couldn’t be entrusted to Ollie?” Alfie scoffed at that “Ezra then or Jacob?” Tommy pressed listing Alfie’s most trusted, and not to mention fiercest, men. 

“Personal business” Alfie said shortly before heaving himself up out of the chair. “I’ll sleep in the spare room eh? Don’t want to disturb your beauty sleep with all my old man grunting and groaning” Alfie said, lighter this time. He stopped to press a kiss on Tommy’s forehead before making his way towards the hallway.

Tommy finished his drink before going to bed.

++++

Tommy was half asleep when he felt the other side of the bed dip shortly before a pair of arms encircled him, and he felt himself pulled backwards until he was flush against Alfie’s chest. He opened his eyes as he felt the kisses that were being pressed gently down the side of his face and his neck.

Tommy arched himself back, seeking more contact; even in his sleep ridden state his body always craved more Alfie. 

“Sorry” Alfie said quietly. Whether it was for waking him or the past few hours Tommy wasn’t sure. 

“S’ok” Tommy replied, relishing the feel of Alfie back in their bed.

“Gonna make it up to you now” Alfie said, his hands wandering down Tommy’s side.

“Please” Tommy replied.

+++

It was several days later when Tommy was sat in the pub at the end of Alfie’s road in Camden that he overheard the conversation. Two dock workers drinking away their daily wages and crowing over the discovery of a body in one of the abandoned warehouses on the south side of the river. The warehouses commonly used by The Sabini boys. Tommy only had half an ear on the conversation, his main focus on his quickly warming pint and the day’s news. It wasn’t until he heard the words “beaten to a pulp” followed by “crucified” that he paid more attention, his eyes never straying from the Financial Times in front of him. By the time the men had moved on to complaining about the weather all he could hear was “it was fucking biblical mate” ringing in his ears.

He arrived at the Bakery just after 4pm, he knew Alfie would have gone for his daily drive to the larger premises they’d recently opened in Hackney, the early stages of production needing closer supervision. Ollie, as expected, was sat at his desk in the office adjacent to Alfie’s.

“Mr Shelby, Alfie is away to Hackney, should be back by 6” Ollie said at the sight of Tommy standing in his doorway. 

“That’s fine, how are things Ollie?” Tommy asked conversationally, running a cigarette lightly across his lips to moisten the filter. He tempered his tone to casual to avoid suspicion but the nature of his words gave him away. He and Ollie respected each other but they didn’t make small talk. 

“Fine Mr Shelby, just fine” Ollie said, obviously confused and caught off-guard by Tommy’s sudden interest in his well-being but eager to please his boss’ partner. “And errm, I’m glad you’re ok” He added giving Tommy a knowing look. 

“Yes, well… that was a close call wasn’t it?” Tommy said, he didn’t know what Ollie was referring to but he played along. He knew asking Ollie outright would only lead to him going quiet if he realised Tommy was completely, and infuriatingly, in the dark. 

“Yes, but fortunately Jacob was in the right place at the right time and we told Alfie we’d sort it but you know Alfie, when it comes to you….well. Anyway, Sabini’s men won’t be making any more threats against you Mr Shelby. Alfie made sure of that!” Ollie said, and Tommy really would have to speak to Alfie about Ollie’s big mouth, the slightest inquiry and it was like turning on a tap. 

Tommy kept his face neutral and nodded. “Right well, all’s well that ends well eh? I’ll be in Alfie’s office if you need me”

“Ok Mr Shelby, have a good evening” Tommy nodded his response taking himself quickly in to Alfie’s office and taking a seat at his own desk.

_“Tired of all your gypsy fucking business cluttering up my desk aren’t I?” Alfie had said as way of explanation when Tommy had raised an eyebrow at the brand new desk Alfie had ordered for him. It sat perpendicular to Alfie’s and when he sat at it his back almost touched the cabinet of drawers that stood against the wall behind him. They needed a bigger office._

He lit up his cigarette and watched the seagulls fighting over a piece of bread on the dock outside the window. “What have you been up to Alfie?”

+++

Alfie arrived back at the office a few minutes after 6, and after a brief catch up on the days business events they walked slowly back to their town house, Alfie wanting to stretch his legs after spending too much time in the car. The sun was beginning to set casting a pleasant glow on the almost deserted streets.

Alfie chatted animatedly, segueing between his excitement about their dinner plans (Maria’s famous fish and chips) and his annoyance at the short cut his driver took to Hackney which turned out to be not very short at all. Tommy smoked a steady chain of cigarettes, throwing out the occasional word or hum of acknowledgment to show he was listening. 

It was during dinner, after Alfie’s last mouthful of mushy peas, that Tommy got straight to the point.

“So about the crucifixion on the South Bank” Tommy said, his own plate long since finished, declining the seconds that Maria had offered and Alfie had enthusiastically accepted.

She’d left shortly after, Alfie always insisted on washing the plates and she’d walked in on them in one too many compromising positions to stay around too long after dinner. 

Alfie choked on his peas. 

Tommy calmly passed him a glass of water, the coughing back under control just before he thought he might have to stand up and hit him on the back. 

“Jesus fucking Christ you tryna kill me?” Alfie asked, taking another gulp of tepid water.

“Not at all Alfie. Wouldn’t want to end up nailed to a fucking cross would I?” Tommy asked seriously. He wasn’t angry really but if Alfie had taken to executing men in his name he’d like to know about it.

“Look, the cross was a bit much, I’ll admit, that wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I’d told Ezra to deal with it. I’m not gonna lie Tom, I’m beginning to suspect the lads a few sandwiches short of a picnic” Alfie explained, though he looked more impressed than troubled.

“So you didn’t beat the man to death before hand?” Tommy asked, sipping from his own glass of water.

“Oh no, I beat the living shit out of him mate. He might’ve still been alive when I left them to it but he wasn’t long for the world that’s for sure. I actually thought Ezra would just dump the body in the river, turns out he’s a bit more theatrical” Alfie shrugged. 

“And who exactly was he?” Tommy asked, sometimes talking to Alfie felt like he was trying to eat Jelly with a knife and folk. 

Alfie sighed, a sign of defeat where Tommy was concerned “He was one of Sabini’s men. Look right, I didn’t want to get you involved yeah? What with the political aspirations and all…” Tommy scoffed at that, Alfie may as well have carved Don’t fuck with the Gypsy on the man’s chest; he couldn’t be any more involved. 

“He was just some low level sprite trying to make a name for himself. Got word he had a little plan to…well I think his plan was to kidnap you and do you in but when I asked him myself he wasn’t really making much sense what with all the sobbing and pleading. He mouthed off to the wrong people who told the wrong people and it got back to me. Should’ve kept his mouth shut”. Alfie finalised his statement by stacking their plates on the table before taking them over to the sink to soak. 

“Alfie, the kick back…” Tommy said, watching Alfie closely, his body was relaxed as he ran water in to the sink. 

Alfie turned back around to face him “No, no, no, don’t you worry about that mate. Me and Darby go way back, been kicking the shit out of each other since we were in short trousers, we know how to communicate. He knows when you fuck with family, there are consequences. These were the consequences. End of.” He shrugged again and if he was honest Tommy knew it to be true.

Time was, if anyone had mouthed off about any of his kin they would too have been dealt with in a similar, if not quite so elaborate way. But now he had his sights set higher, more legitimate, he relied on his more trusted men to deal with the lower level aspects of the business. Still, it twinged his pride a bit. 

“I can fight my own battles Alfie” Tommy said, he didn’t want to sound petulant but with Alfie acting like a protective father it was difficult. 

“I know you can treacle”, Alfie said gently and Tommy suspected, with intentional condescension just to wind him up. Tommy rolled his eyes. He knew this wasn’t the hill to die on, with Alfie there were always bigger battles. 

“Anyway it’s sorted, got a lovely little note from my friend Darby this afternoon by way of a Telegram”. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and slipped the piece of paper out of his top pocket it before handing it to Tommy.

Tommy opened it and read the message which was written in Italian “Non toccheremo lo Zingaro”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tommy asked, he was fluent in English, Romani and Alfie, and that was all he could deal with right now.

Alfie just smiled. 

*Non toccheremo lo Zingaro – Don’t touch the Gypsy


	6. A New Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has started noticing a few changes about Alfie’s appearance.
> 
> Soon, so does everyone else, much to Alfie’s chagrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning for some light homophobic word usage.

Tommy started noticing the changes slowly at first. An extra glass jar or two next to the hair brush on the dressing table, a neatly folded pair of trousers hung over the back of the clothes horse rather than in a crumpled pile in the corner of the bedroom. 

Alfie took a little bit longer to get dressed in the morning; his usual ten minutes in the bathroom stretched to twenty, giving Tommy precious extra time in bed. He kept up a regular shaving routine to allow the Doctors cream to work it’s magic; initially attempting the task himself until the sink met with the Ivory handle of his razor blade in a burst of frustration. The resulting nasty crack to the porcelain had Tommy quietly remove the shaving kit from Alfie’s clenched fists before anymore of the bathroom paid the price. 

After that episode the blessed task was passed to Tommy, something that he pretended to endure with an exaggerated sigh but secretly enjoyed. He relished the trust Alfie displayed in letting Tommy glide the wet razor blade over the plains of his face, over the taught muscles of his throat. 

When Tommy was called back to Birmingham and Alfie couldn’t be spared to go with him, he would revisit the “fucking goy” who had provided the service the first time, who Alfie would begrudgingly admit did a fine job. Whether that was through skill or fear was anyone’s guess. 

During the times when he allowed the beard to return, albeit more lightly that before, Alfie used a pleasantly floral scented liniment Ada had given him, “ just to keep it a bit softer and less unruly ” she’d said as a way of selling it to him when he had looked at the glass pot with nothing short of suspicion, like it’s contents would penetrate his skin and steal his secrets. “ Might feel nice for Tom too ” she’d added and Alfie had put the jar in his pocket without another word. 

At the days end Alfie’s hair was only mussed-up if Tommy made it that way. He’d spotted the comb and hand held mirror in Alfie’s desk drawer at the office, carefully hidden underneath the days racing pages and a months worth of old receipts. 

Then there were the subtle changes to his clothes. He still wore his imposing uniform of black suit, white shirt and wide brimmed hat when out in public, but suddenly the lines of his shirts seemed slimmer, more fitted to his impressive torso and muscular arms. His trousers slightly more streamlined to his legs. 

Soon other people began to notice too. It started with the occasional glance their way as they walked down the street, a quick double take as they entered a pub in London or a tea shop in Margate. Tommy recognised the looks of appreciation, and sometimes outright desire, at the impressive sight of the pair of them side by side. 

Alfie, as ever, was either completely oblivious or simply uninterested by the new attention. Tommy on the other hand was surprisingly annoyed by it. He’d always treasured the fact that only he saw the real Alfie, the handsome gentle man under the gruff and imposing, sometimes scary, veneer. That someone else might try to stake their claim on what was his sent a flare of jealousy up his spine whenever a second glance lingered too long, a hushed whisper of approval hovered in the air. 

If he was being honest Tommy might admit that he had also become accustomed to providing a stark contrast to his partner in life and crime. Tommy, always impeccably turned out, presented a more trustworthy figure, respectful, someone you could stop for directions in the street and not worry about receiving a knife in the ribs for your trouble, or your wallet. 

Alfie on the other hand had repelled such approach, menace oozing out of him. Alfie was always more concerned with how he made people feel. Made people fear. The air of unkempt only added to peoples wariness. 

Thinking about it Tommy found himself somewhat mournful for the old slightly disheveled Alfie, but old or new Alfie was his. He wasn’t available, out there for public appreciation and consumption. No, Tommy wasn’t sure he liked this new development at all. 

****

He brought it up over dinner one night in the kitchen; Maria, Alfie’s housekeeper, bustling around serving them heaping bowls of beef neck stew with large wedges of crusty bread. Alfie eventually scolded her affectionately before she started spoon feeding them like children and had told her to go on home. They could eat their dinner just fine without her hovering around like a mother hen. 

She’d laughed and reminded him of his appointment at the tailors tomorrow at 11am, and not to be late because he was the best in London “he had nearly hung up the phone before I mentioned your name and then suddenly he managed to squeeze you in” Maria said, her voice incredulous. “I should’ve just told him Solomons from the start, would’ve saved us both time”.

“Yeah alright, fuck off home then” Alfie had grumbled quietly as Maria swept her coat off the hook on the back of the door and left the kitchen. Alfie lowered his head, concentrating on spooning more stew in to his mouth trying to mask the faint blush that had appeared on his face. 

“A tailor eh?” Tommy asked, a smile on his lips at Alfie’s obvious discomfort. Clearly this is something he hadn’t planned on Tommy knowing. 

“Yeah well, needed some new clothes. Not a big deal, you go to one all the time dont ya?”, Alfie replied defensively as he attacked a thick slice of bread with a loaded butter knife.

“I do. I just didn’t know you had one that’s all. Noticed a few new things recently” Tommy said casually, watching as Alfie made more holes in the bread than anything else.

“Oh yeah and what’re those then eh?” Alfie asked. Giving up on buttering the bread, instead he just dipped it in to the stew and brought it to his mouth, chewing aggressively as he stared at Tommy with as much menace as one could muster with a mouth full of food. 

Enjoying his lovers discomfort Tommy pushed him further “New clothes, new shoes, Ada’s creams and potions, a new hat...” He trailed off at Alfie’s now furious expression. 

“Just wondered if you were trying to impress someone that’s all” Tommy finished quietly, suddenly concerned that maybe that’s exactly what Alfie was doing. Trying to impress someone other than him. Perhaps realising he could do better than a Gypsy from the wrong side of Birmingham. 

To his surprise the answer he received wasn’t angry or glib, or devastating, but earnest. 

“Just tryna look the part alright? Just trying to look, right, like I’m someone who you would spend time with” Alfie said, his eyes refusing to meet Tommy’s and instead concentrated on mopping up the last of his gravy with more bread. 

“Tired of people wondering what such a smart looking bloke is doing with the mad wandering Jew” He continued, his voice low, and if Tommy didn’t know any better he’d almost say Alfie was feeling unsure of himself. 

“They think we’re in business Alfie”. Tommy said gently. 

He knew there were rumours of course, they were unlikely business partners at best but Tommy knew that’s not all that people thought. Not that anyone would dare ever even insinuate anything else, not even their enemies. But he wasn’t impervious to the knowing looks, the sly smirks. Most people may not understand it, certainly didn’t approve of it, but they could fuck off right to hell as Alfie would say. He’d see them there. 

“I know that mate, it’s just. I like feeling like I belong next to you alright? Jesus you’ve turned me in to a right puff haven’t you?” Alfie said, he barked out a laugh, amused by his own insecurity. 

“You do belong next to me Alfie. Always” Tommy reassured him. “Fucks sake Alfie if anything I’m going to have to fight them off with a fucking stick now. Women are fucking salivating over you everywhere we go for Christ’s sake”. 

Alfie laughed at that, a pink blush gracing his cheeks, betraying the fact he might have noticed too.

“What can I say mate? I’m fucking handsome, aren’t I?”

Tommy’s eye roll was belayed by the smile on his lips. 

***

It was a family meeting in Small Heath that made Alfie really regret his new “beauty regime” as Tommy had taken to teasingly refer to it. While Alfie was prepared to take some good natured ribbing from Tommy, he was after all, very well compensated in other areas to make up for it, his patience for the other Shelby men was limited at best. 

Despite the successful business alliance things still remained tense between himself and Tommy’s brothers; neither of them quite embracing Tommy and Alfie’s personal relationship the way Polly and Ada, and even Finn, had. John had remained mostly confused, he’d seen Tommy fuck enough French barmaids during the war to forget about the occasional trips he would make to the bath houses; and Arthur simply didn’t trust Alfie, and certainly didn’t understand him. 

So naturally it was those two that managed to rile Alfie up the most. 

“Which one of you puffs is wearing perfume?” Arthur had said without thinking as he’d walked past the two men on his way in to the room.

The comment caused little more than a roll of the eyes from Tommy, and a smirk from Polly, but a deeply offended scowl from Alfie who, betrayed by a light blush on his cheeks, had obviously bought in to another one of Ada’s concoctions from America. 

Alfie made to leave before Tommy caught him, tugged gently on his hand, leaning in to speak quietly in to his ear.

“Just 20 minutes and this is over and we’ll head back to Arrow house ok? Take the rest of the day off”.Only the pleading look in Tommy’s eyes made Alfie nod in agreement, but he still gave the eldest brother a withering look, cursing at him quietly in Hebrew, something he knew made Arthur nervous.

His disquiet was of course then made worse by John who arrived late with a giggling Esme at his side. 

“Jesus Alfie looking good mate, what happened to you?”, John said, unable to hide his surprise at the new groomed version of the man he had come to know over the last year. He didn’t stop for answer before sitting himself down next to Polly, Esme taking her customary seat on the stairs. 

If anyone noticed Tommy physically holding Alfie back, or the murderous look in Alfie’s eyes, they didn’t comment. 

“Jesus Christ, let’s get on with it shall we?” Tommy asked, then not waiting for an answer continued “Right first order of business...” 


	7. Adventures in Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ada leaves Karl in the care of Tommy (and Alfie) while she’s away on business.

“How old is he again?”, Alfie asked, they’re sat at one end of the large dining table at Arrow House. Alfie in his usual seat to Tommy’s right side so he can look out of the large windows on to the south lawn. He finds calling it a garden is a bit of a stretch, what with the acres of green laid out before him leading in to rolling fields. 

Tommy sits at the head of the table, something Alfie tried to do the first time he stayed at the house, gravitating towards his natural habitat. The looks on the servants faces had been funny enough for him to do it again the second morning but when Rose, the head of the household staff, had looked like she might set upon him with a butter knife he’d decided to stop playing games. 

She’d set him his own place at the other end of the table the next day as a compromise, but after 5 minutes of shouting to each other down the vast expanse of polished oak Alfie had picked up his plate and teacup and moved himself. The view was better at Tommy’s end. 

“He’s just turned 4” Tommy replied,not looking up from his newspaper. Alfie was busying himself using his binoculars to look out at the birds fluttering around between the trees and the grass while Tommy read the finance pages.

Tommy was a little apprehensive about how his shy nephew would respond to the large hulk of a man he’d only ever really met before in passing. As for Alfie, if he had to guess, Tommy would say the last time Alfie spoke to a child was when he was one himself.

“Mmm” Alfie mumbled in acknowledgment, his attention now fixated on a Sparrow paddling in the stone bird bath in the centre of the lawn. “I wonder if he likes birds” He added absently, more to himself than to Tommy directly. 

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough” Tommy replied pulling his watch from his pocket and checking the time. Ada said she would drop Karl off on her way up to Manchester which would be any time now.

He was sure it would be fine. He was sure Alfie could refrain from terrorising the poor child for a few hours; wouldn’t tell him horrid tales from his real life or try to teach him how to shoot the Starlings in the barn. 

Everything would be fine. 

***

“Now that one see? That one is a Blackbird” Alfie said, he was crouched down next to Karl on the grass pointing to the large bird with shiny black feathers mixed with vibrant blue, that was picking up stray seeds off the ground.

He held the binoculars up to Karl’s eyes so he could get a closer look, careful not to jostle the boy too much as he shifted on to one knee for support, his back twinging in protest. 

Tommy tried not to look at the scene before him too fondly. If he’d thought Alfie was being good with Karl now, it was nothing compared to earlier that morning when he’d watched him hold the little boys hand and walk next to him the whole time Karl nervously rode his first pony around the paddock. 

Tommy knew how wary Alfie was of horses himself “ _Wild beasts ain’t they? Like you and me”,_ Alfie had said with a quick wink. 

When Tommy had tried to get Alfie take to ride on one of the larger horses, Alfie had declined “ _Not since the war mate, done enough of that there ”  _

After that they’d had lunch out in the garden, a picnic made up by Mary supplemented with freshly baked Challah and some Honey cake, curtesy of Alfie. 

Now Alfie was introducing Karl to the myriad wildlife that called the Arrow House estate their home, from a field mouse they’d tracked under a Fuscia plant and now the large selection of bird life. 

“Uncle Alfie” Karl said, “What’s that in its mouth?”

“Ahhh it’s picked up a wiggly worm!” Alfie replied, running his hands up Karls sides in a tickle making the young boy giggle raucously. 

Tommy decided to leave them to it and made his way back towards the house. The freshly mown grass was obviously beginning to irritate his allergies. 

***

By 9pm Tommy and Alfie were lay side by side in their bed, absolutely exhausted. Karl had finally given in and agreed to go to bed after an energetic game of hide and seek around the ground floor “ _ You had to buy a fucking mansion didn’t you _ _?_ ” Alfie had said as he and Tommy entered yet another room looking for the little boy, thankfully this time hearing a giggle from the window and seeing two small feet peaking out from behind the long curtains. 

After that it had been 3 stories from “Uncle” Alfie before the boy finally succumbed to the excitement of the day and fell asleep in the guest room across the corridor from their own. 

“That kid right, is a fucking menace” Alfie said quietly but seriously, causing Tommy to huff out a laugh. 

“You were as bad as each other, encouraging him like that” Tommy said stifling a yawn, he rolled over, curling in to Alfie’s side, careful not to jostle him too much but seeking more contact. Alfie remained on his back, poker straight, absolutely the only position that would give him a fighting chance of mobilising normally tomorrow. 

“Yes well, I was just trying to educate the little urchin wasnt I. Poor fucking commy bastard, who knows what your wayward sister is teaching him over there?” Alfie replied repositioning his arm to gather Tommy closer to him. 

“Ada isn’t a communist anymore Alfie” Tommy said, his hand stroking soothingly over his lovers chest, fingers trailing through the dark hair. “She’s head of property and acquisitions for fucks sake” He continued, no bite to his words. He was used to Alfie’s generalised mock and disparagement of his siblings. 

“Yeah well, all that time with the fucking Yanks isn’t going to do him any good. No, no good at all” Alfie said softly and Tommy suspected mostly to himself. 

“I’m not sure helping him perfect the forward roll down the south side of the lawn is going to fortify him against much” Tommy said, a smile gracing his face at the memory. “How is your back?” He asked as an afterthought, Alfie winced as if just thinking about it made it hurt. 

“Mmmm well in retrospect that particular activity might have been a mistake. Personally speaking” Alfie confessed, shifting his body slightly to improve his comfort. 

“Mmmm” Tommy said snuggling in closer. The hand he had on Alfie’s chest drifting lower down his lovers torso before slipping below the thick cotton sheets that covered him to the waist. 

“Now now Thomas, what do you think you’re doing with those curious little hands of yours eh?” Alfie asked with a raised eyebrow, a small shiver running through him at the contact. 

“Just seeking what’s mine” Tommy replied becoming more generous with his expedition around Alfie’s lower body. “Less of the little” He added pouting. 

Alfie laughed, the resulting movement jarring his lower back, causing him to let out a moan of discomfort.

“Too sore?” Tommy asked, his tone less hopeful than his wandering hands. 

“Too fucking sore he says” Alfie said offended, turning himself towards Tommy, hand grasping his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

Tommy returned it eagerly only for it to be broken as Alfie pulled away again, wincing in pain.

“Yeah well, maybe tomorrow then” Alfie said resigned, slowly returning to his prone position, regretful of his sudden movement. 

Tommy returned his hand to the more neutral territory of Alfie’s chest. 

“Mmmm we should try to get some sleep anyway, Ada says Karl is up with the songbirds” Tommy said soothingly. 

“Of course he is, the fucking menace” Alfie said, his eyes already heavy, sleep closing in. 

Tommy laughed as he repositioned his pillow more comfortably, finally letting his eyes close. 

“It is something to think about though innit?” Alfie said, his voice barely audible in the already quiet room. 

“What is?” Tommy asked curiously.

Alfie responded with a light snore. 


	8. Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy receives a life changing phone call, informing him about a son he never knew he had. 
> 
> Aka the story of how Tommy and Alfie become Tommy and Alfie and Charlie.

Their world changed one unassuming morning in October. It was overcast and drizzling outside; the temperature in Warwickshire had seemed to drop overnight prompting Tommy to light the fire in the bedroom when he woke up, to take the chill out of the air. He had left Alfie sleeping, adjusting the blankets that had fallen away in sleep back over his lovers shoulders, before he went to wash and dress for the day. He knew Alfie would feel the effects of the cold for the rest of the day if he slept in it for too long.

Alfie had returned from a short trip to London late the previous evening and they’d gone to sleep later still; he’d been making more frequent visits to London recently as he finalised the handover of most of the day to day operations at the bakery to Ollie, so Alfie could focus more on expansion of the business and other ventures. Ollie had been working with him for long enough that the transition should have been fairly smooth, but Ollie was still Ollie and Alfie was still Alfie, Tommy was just thankful neither had killed the other during the process. After a few weeks of back and forth, and a lot of quarrelling in person and over the phone, Alfie and Ollie had finally reached an agreement on how things would be run in Alfie’s absence. Though Tommy suspected Ollie had finally given in.

This meant Alfie would spend less time in London, something he had been leaning towards for months now as the peace and tranquillity of the Warwickshire countryside had started to soothe him the way the hustle and bustle of Camden town couldn’t anymore. He still despised Birmingham of-course, pointed that out to Tommy and anyone else who was bred in that god forsaken city at every chance he got, but Warwickshire with its fresh air and rolling hills had started to feel like home.

Knowing Alfie wouldn’t want to make the trip in to the Birmingham offices today Tommy had decided to work from home. He’d spoken to Lizzie first thing and noted down all his messages. It was Friday and he didn’t have any meetings scheduled so he planned to catch up on some phone calls before turning his attention to the import and export contracts that Michael had sent over for review. He wondered idly how far he’d get before Alfie got bored and came in to distract him.

Deftly lighting a cigarette with one hand, Tommy picked up the receiver with the other to make his first phone call. A solicitor from a firm Tommy didn’t recognise had left a few messages about needing to speak to Tommy about a matter of upmost urgency; he’d given Lizzie a forwarding number but no further explanation. Tommy assumed it was in connection with finalising the purchase of a row of disused factories on the London docklands as part of Alfie’s planned expansion. Once connected to the operator Tommy voiced his request and waited for the line to start ringing at the other end.

+++

Tommy marvelled at the sight of his hands shaking as he hung up the phone; he felt disconnected from them, almost as if they were someone else’s hands, part of someone else’s body. He’d held countless weapons with these hands, ended countless lives and walked away without so much as a twitch. But here, safe and warm and alone in his office, they shook.  
  
The Solicitor, a Mr Brockley of Brockley and Associates in Southampton, hadn’t wanted to speak about property. By the time Tommy had fully processed the words ‘Grace’, ‘deceased’ and ‘son’, Mr Brockley had rung off stating he’d be back in contact the next day with the time of the boys arrival.

The time of his son’s arrival in England, whereupon which he would then be awarded sole custody of said son, unless of course Mr Shelby “wished for the boy to be placed in alternative accommodation until which time he could be adequately re-homed”.  
  
The words had sobered Tommy out of his stupor long enough for him to assure the man that he did not wish for that and that upon learning of the place, date and time of his… son’s arrival, he would indeed be present to collect him.  
  
Unable to tear his eyes away from the telephone that had just changed his life, Tommy poured himself a large whiskey and slumped back in to his desk chair. He could hear Alfie moving around upstairs, his cane providing the familiar comforting thump as he made his way steadily from one room to the next, no doubt grumbling about why there were so many rooms in the first place. The winter months aggravated his Sciatica and he used his stick to mobilise first thing in the morning until he warmed up. Alfie, 36 years old going on 70, but the sweetest, and definitely the most dramatic, man he’d ever known.

Jesus Christ, how was he going to explain this to Alfie?  
  
He sat quietly for a few more minutes, his mind turning over, listening to the sounds of his lover overhead who was now probably walking between the master bedroom and the adjacent room he had unofficially commandeered as his dressing room. Tommy wondered how he’d feel about moving all his clothes out, and converting it in to a nursery.

  
  
+++

  
  
“If you could just repeat that for me again Thomas, it would be much appreciated?” Alfie asked calmly. He was sat in the arm chair facing Tommy’s desk watching the other man carefully for any sign that he was, in fact, joking.

Though he suspected it wasn’t a joke at all; he’d known from the moment he’d entered the office a few minutes before to get an update on their latest property acquisition, and found Tommy staring in to space, whiskey untouched, that something was very much amiss.  
  
As Tommy opened up his mouth to speak Alfie cut him off.

“So your ex-...girlfriend, right, your ex- fucking Judas of a –girlfriend, she toddled herself off to New York right and got herself married. But then she came back here and you two...” He gestured at Tommy suggestively but was unable to keep a look of distaste completely off his face.  
  
“Yes” Tommy nodded “Which was before we…” He gestured between himself and Alfie, feeling the need to clarify.  
  
“Right yes, before we” Alfie repeated, “And this...liaison resulted in a, well it resulted in a child”  
  
“Apparently so” Tommy nodded, finally taking a sip of his whiskey, appreciating the familiar burn.  
  
“But you didn’t know” Alfie said, eyeing Tommy suspiciously.  
  
“I didn’t know” Tommy said looking Alfie square in the eye. It was the truth; after their night together in London, Grace had returned to her husband and eventually New York. And Tommy, Tommy had very much moved on.  
  
“And she now has found herself... well dead. She’s found herself dead.” Alfie said holding Tommy’s gaze, his eyes searching for any tell of emotion on the other man’s face.  
  
“Her and her husband, car accident apparently” Tommy elaborated. He wondered if the numbness he’d felt at the words would wear off with the shock, if any of the old feelings he’d had for Grace would flare up as the news sunk in.  
  
“And in her last Will and Testament she has helpfully advised that it is in fact you who is the father of the aforementioned child and that it is you who should be contacted in the event of her untimely demise” Alfie said. He understood full well the situation the first time, but it bore repeating.  
  
“Yes Alfie that’s correct” Tommy said taking another drink. His hands had stopped shaking but he kept them occupied anyway.  
  
“Mmmm” Alfie made his signature noise of acknowledgment, it usually symbolised deep thought or a prelude to violence. Tommy didn’t think he had the energy for the latter.  
  
“So when does he arrive then?” Alfie asked finally and Tommy let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.  
  
“Sometime in the next few days. The solicitor said he’d ring back tomorrow with more information. He’s...on a boat apparently” Tommy said, saddened at the thought of his son on a boat alone and probably terrified.  
  
“And he’s how old?” Alfie asked.  
  
“The Solicitor said he’s just turned 2...which sounds about right” Tommy said, not quite able to believe they were having this conversation as calmly as if they were discussing what to have for dinner.  
  
“A baby then” Alfie said, his eyes vacant with thought.  
  
“Yes” Tommy agreed.

They lapsed back in to silence for a few moments.

“What the fuck we gonna do with a baby?” Alfie asked, as if the reality of the situation had suddenly dawned.

“Well, fucked if I know Alfie, but I suppose we’re about to find out” Tommy said, swiftly finishing the rest of his drink.

++++

In the end, everything had gone about as well as could be expected. They’d driven down to Southampton on the following Tuesday morning and met with Mr Brockley at his office before making the short journey to the port on foot.

The screeching of the seagulls overhead had been deafening in the already loud and bustling port side, the arrival of the enormous ship from New York creating a buzz in the air. There were people in their hundreds queuing to board or queuing to disembark depending on which side of the barriers they stood.

Tommy hated ports, they reminded him of shipping off to France, the smell and the filth and the thousands of soldiers, dark brown uniforms as far as the eye could see, faces full of false hope, assuring their weeping mothers and wives that they’d be home by Christmas. It certainly hadn’t been Christmas and many never made it home at all.

But there were no soldiers that day, just Alfie who had stood beside him patiently; though instead of watching the people milling around, his eyes followed the circling birds overhead. He’d reached for the pistol inside of his jacket twice, “Alfie” Tommy had said both times under his breath, the “don’t you fucking dare” was implied, before Alfie finally put his hands in his pockets and kept them there.

The meeting itself had been underwhelming given the level of anticipation. Mr Brockley had arranged for his son, Charles, to be escorted by a Nanny for the journey across the Atlantic, which had come as a great relief to Tommy and Alfie. However that relief swiftly dissolved upon learning that the Nanny would be leaving just as soon as the hand over was finalised; she’d be going straight to the station to get her train back home to Liverpool, having only volunteered to make the journey for the free ticket home.

They’d met her at the ticket office and after brief introductions had gone back to Mr Brockley’s office to finalise the paperwork. Charles, held securely on his Nanny's hip, had looked at the men curiously but without emotion; as strangers.

Paperwork completed and payment received the girl, a petite blonde with big brown eyes, had left with a quick kiss to Charles’ cheek and a wink in Alfie’s direction. Tommy wasn’t so sad to see the back of her after that.

“Well fuck me, there’s no question of paternity is there?” Alfie had asked upon getting his first proper look at the child, he said it under his breath so only Tommy could hear, and looking at the boys wide sea blue eyes he couldn’t help but agree. The resemblance was striking.

“What do we do now?” Tommy had said to Mr Brockley as Alfie crouched down to try and engage with the little boy who sat on the floor, playing quietly with some toys.

“He’s your son Mr Shelby, you take him home”. Mr Brockley had said kindly.

And that’s how Tommy and Alfie became Tommy and Alfie and Charlie.


	9. Settling in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of short vignettes as Tommy and Alfie adjust to life with a toddler. 
> 
> 1\. Who we are  
> 2\. Flour  
> 3\. Pony  
> 4\. Regression  
> 5\. Juggling  
> 6\. The Nanny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep each vignette to 150 words just as a personal challenge, I managed with the first 4 but the last two ended up at 250 and 350 words respectively.

**Who we are**

“Can you say Alf-fee?” Alfie asked, slowly enunciating each syllable.

Charlie looked at him, confused, before turning back to his toy car, making zooming noises as he ran it along the carpet.

While Charlie had started to call Tommy ‘Daddy’ almost straight away, he’d been reluctant to say Alfie’s name at all. He loved him certainly; held his arms out whenever Alfie walked in to the room, toddled over to him when he saw him throughout the day. But he couldn’t quite figure out who he was, if Tommy was Daddy, and they didn’t want to confuse him anymore.

Tommy watched quietly from the doorway, Charlie noticed him first.

“Hi Daddy!” Charlie said cheerfully to Tommy, Alfie frowned.

“Ok Charlie, Daddy’s here. I’m going to work ok?” Alfie said, getting up off the floor.

“OK Daddy, bye” Charlie said, reaching his arms out to Alfie for a hug.

Alfie’s face lit up at Charlie’s words.

It seemed he’d decided for himself.

+++

**Flour**

When Charlie was two and a half they lost sight of him for 23 minutes. Tommy had taken a phone call in the office thinking he was with Alfie; Alfie had gone outside to tend to his vegetable patch thinking he had stayed with Tommy.

They met each other in the living room with stricken looks and accusing words.

After mobilising all the staff and scouring half the grounds Alfie had found him sat on the floor in the kitchen pantry in front of an open cupboard, it’s entire contents spread on the floor around him, his face covered in the flour he was currently digging out of the flour bin with his little hands.

Alfie had swept him up off the floor with such a sense of relief that when Tommy had run in at the sound of his booming call he’d found them both covered in flour, laughing.

+++

**Pony**

When Tommy had presented Charlie with a pony, the boy had wailed so hard at the sight of the large dark brown creature that Alfie had to take him inside to calm him down. He’d returned, reluctantly, a few minutes later clinging to Alfie’s leg, his face streaked with tears, his eyes filled with trepidation.

With some whispers of encouragement he’d taken Tommy’s hand and allowed himself to be led closer to the pony, which was now safely behind its stable door, just his head visible above.

Feeling safe now the beast was back in its cage he’d happily accepted the lift up in to Tommy’s arms so he could get a closer look, even reaching a tentative hand out to stroke the horse’s nose gently.

The whinnying purr from the horse in reply had made Charlie giggle with delight.

The beaming smile on Tommy’s face lit up the stables.

+++

**Regression**

Tommy stared at the ceiling, Alfie asleep beside him. He could hear whimpering coming from the next room and fought the urge to go to Charlie, to soothe him, and likely bring him to their bed until he settled.

For the 5th time that week.

Last night Alfie had finally snapped.

“ _Tom, you know I’d die for that boy right? Kill for him, bludgeon a ...” Alfie started_

_“Understood Alfie” Tommy said, needing no further elaboration._

_“But mate, if you ever want us to fuck again you can’t keep bringing him in to the bed with us” Alfie had said, not unkindly but with an air of frustration._

_“I know but...”_

_“It’s just a phase, like Polly said, I know its shit, I do, I hate it too…”_

“ _I know, it’ll pass” Tommy said, sighing._

Alfie found him in the morning asleep on the floor next to Charlie’s bed.

A compromise.

+++

**Juggling**

Juggling the business and caring for Charlie had taken some organisation and compromise but they had settled in to a routine. One of them would work in the morning while the other spent time with Charlie, before swapping for the afternoon; with quality time for all 3 of them in the evenings and at weekends.

After finishing a lengthy but productive telephone conversation with Ada in Boston, Tommy called it a morning and went to seek out his small family. He found them in the playroom, sat on the floor surrounded by paper and coloured crayons.

Noting Tommy’s arrival Alfie put aside his own drawing, tousling Charlie’s hair before heaving himself up off the floor with a muted groan. Tommy had learned not to offer him a helping hand, the subsequent withering look wasn’t worth it, although the way Alfie usually felt the need to prove his virility later that night always was.

“Anything need handling?” Alfie asked, ready to take his own turn in the office.

“Michael is sending over some new contracts this afternoon that need authorising, otherwise you’re free to berate Ollie over whatever you feel is necessary today” Tommy said, smiling as he fingered the edge of Alfie’s knitted woollen cardigan.

Alfie scoffed, though he had actually been meaning to speak to Ollie about a discrepancy with the invoicing.

Distracted with business talk neither noticed when Charlie turned his attention and his crayons to the newly decorated playroom wall.

It was time they got a Nanny.

+++

**The Nanny**

“What about the first one?” Tommy asked, pouring them both some tea.

“If you want the boy growing up worrying about being smote by Hellfire” Alfie replied, referring to the god fearing old woman they had interviewed first. They’d politely excused her when she started talking about sodomites.

“Point taken, the third one wasn’t so bad?” Tommy suggested hopefully, after a morning of interviewing for Charlie’s potential Nanny he was already exhausted.

“Mmm, she’d end up in our bed before the first month was out” Alfie said, eyebrows raised.

The woman had been a looker alright, and had not been backward in coming forward, flirting outrageously with both of them from the start. An old friend of Lizzie’s from her days as a working girl she was looking for more legitimate, vertical, employment, apparently.

“Lead us not in to temptation eh?” Tommy said smirking. Tommy would tell Lizzie to enrol her on a secretarial course and find her a position in one of the new factories.

“Ok let’s get the next one in…” Tommy sighed, resigned. Whoever they hired had to be perfect for Charlie.

The sixth applicant turned out to be the charm. The daughter of one of Polly’s neighbours in Sutton, Vera was a quiet little thing from a good family, trying to save enough money to attend university after gaining a place to study at the London school of medicine for women.

Charlie had loved her and she didn’t appear to be overly religious or have designs on either man, despite the blush she got whenever Tommy held her gaze for too long. Alfie couldn’t blame her for that, he had dangerous eyes that one.

She agreed to move in straight away and would stay with them during the week. She’d have most evenings to herself and would return to her parents at the weekends. They started her on 5 pounds a week and set her up in her own room, in the west wing, far away from the master bedroom.

If she blushed at Tommy’s gaze she’d be mortified at the noises he made after dark.


End file.
